High Flight
by Selphy.Westmile
Summary: The year is 1950. The war with the Neuroi has hit a stalemate between the free world and occupied Orussia. For Heidemarie W. Schnaufer, the world is changing in unpredictable ways.
1. Day -1, Evening

_Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth  
__And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;__  
__Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth__  
__of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things__  
__You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung__  
__High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,__  
__I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung__  
__My eager craft through footless halls of air...__Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue__  
__I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.__  
__Where never lark, or even eagle flew —__  
__And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod__  
__The high untrespassed sanctity of space,__  
__\- Put out my hand, and touched the face of God."_

The world is changing.

For hundreds of years, mankind has struggled against itself, the environment, and now the Neuroi. And for hundreds of years, the witches have protected mankind using magic to strengthen their minds, bodies, and souls.

For the past seven years, Heidemarie W. Schnaufer has been on the forefront of the latest protection of mankind: The Second Great Neuroi War. Even the war has changed. This war started as a full scale global war; now it has become a smaller but more intense skirmish along the border between Orussia and the rest of Europe. Gone are the days of massive troop movement and fighting for liberation. Gone are the days of optimistic glory. Now the days are a simmering status quo: The Witches patrol their side of the border and the Neuroi theirs. Skirmishes in the air, on the ground, and on the sea are daily occurrences.

But Heidemarie wasn't thinking of the Neuroi or the war. She was looking out over the frozen Ostmark terrain thinking of her future. She knew that her days were numbered as a witch. She'd already noticed it. Her superiors had noticed it. Her fellow witches noticed it. Even her fellow non-witch instructors noticed it. Her shield was growing weaker each day. Her magical Lichtenstein radar was becoming increasingly unreliable and her night vision was practically nonexistent.

**Major Schnaufer to control. Major Schnaufer to control**. The bases intercom rang out in the chilly early evening air. With a sigh, Heidemarie turned and started the relatively long walk to the control building. Along the way, she looked about at the base. Named the Graz Combat Theatre Training Group, the airbase was home to five training wings of witches, plus training groups for support and logistics. Everyone from cooks to striker mechanics are trained at this location, and it's here where Heidemarie has spent the last two years of her career as an instructor.

The decision to start using 'fading' witches, as one military advisor had put it, to train new witches had been debated for some time, gaining real weight after the magical exhaustion of Sakamoto Mio. Although these witches were unfit for active combat duty, the heads that be decided that they could still be used in a reserve role. Ultimately, only the best witches were picked for this duty, while the rest took a combination of retirement, lateral shift into office work, and public relations. Many chose retirement, including some that were much unexpected to do so. Gertrude Barkhorn was one of the first witches to retire under the new program, citing familial obligations. No one questioned her decision; most new of her sister Chris' history and understood. The shock was when she enounced her engagement to a Belgican officer a year later, and summarily moved from Karlsland to Belgica to start her new family.

Many others chose lateral moves. Minna-Deitlinde Wilcke moved on from combat duty to become the Executive Officer of the newly-formed Joint Fighter Command. Not much is known about her personal life since the reassignment, as she had to transfer to London for the position.

Those who chose the public relations path, like Shirley E. Yeager, became the face of the new front of the war. These witches are responsible for pushing the war bond drive, getting young women from all over their respective countries to sign up, and to inspire the public with their stories of valor and glory. Shirley has become one of the shining examples of this, being able to balance her duties with the responsibility to her family.

As Heidemarie thought of these things she realized that her path still left her in a fair amount of danger. Besides the obvious danger of crashing or an accident, the instructors could still be called into combat at any time if the need arises. More likely, some other instructors joke about in the lounge, the biggest danger they face is accidentally being shot down by their charges.

But she was content. At first she was nervous about her new position and it showed in her performance. She blundered her way through lessons, stuttered nonstop, and almost crashed during the first familiarization flight. It was only after some of the older instructors (none of whom were witches) told her that she was going to kill herself from stress did she start calming down. And from that point on, she was one of the most liked instructors the base had. Her training wing, 333 JFTW, had some of the best recruits on the base and boasted the best scores on the tests. Heidemarie attributed it to the recruit's intelligence; everyone else attributed it to Heidemarie's instruction.

Smiling, Heidemarie reached out and opened the door to the control building. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn't notice the person on the other side of the door and summarily hit him when she opened the door.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she gushed, and knelt down to help the man up. She recognized him as Matthew Thompson, the Farawayland striker mechanic instructor for the mechanics of the 333. She got to spend a lot of time with Matthew as they were both instructors for the same unit. While Heidemarie rarely dealt with the mechanics the new training regime required witches to learn how to field service their strikers in case of emergency landing, so the witches of 333 spent some time learning about the fundamentals of striker design and operation. Standing at average height, Matthew was one of the best mechanics on the base, but had suffered a broken shoulder during the liberation of Venetia when the hangar his wing was stationed in got strafed by the Neuroi. Being unable to use his shoulder, he had spent a year learning how to use his shoulder again. By the time his rehabilitation was completed, the new training plan had been started, and he applied to be an instructor. Only 22, he was one of the youngest captains in the non-combat trades.

"Don't worry about it," he groaned, "I've gotten used to being knocked over." There was a known joke on the base that Matt often got knocked over by the rushing of trainees in the hangar access corridors. Heidemarie suppressed a giggle. While being one of the best mechanics around, she also knew from working with him that he was one of the funniest and nicest people she had ever met.

"What were you doing behind the door anyways?" She asked the man, who was now on his feet.

"Just going outside to fetch the stragglers for the meeting; I think you are the only one missing."

Heidemarie nodded slowly, "Oh. Well, let's not be any later and get going."

Matt stood aside and let the witch pass.

Heidemarie looked over her shoulder at Matt and asked, "Have any idea what this is about?"

Matt bit his lip, and then answered.

"Apparently there are signs that the Neuroi are making a big push into Ostland, and we're being put on watch in case it gets bad." He took a big breath and continued. "And while the trainees are really good, I don't feel comfortable putting any of them, witches or crew, into battle. Bad things happen when they're not ready for it."

Heidemarie slowed her walking, causing Matt to almost bump into her.

"I agree, but they're more ready that I was for my first battle." Heidemarie stated. "I think with 60 witches, plus 5 instructors, we can take down a few Neuroi."

"Fair."

"Besides, I never trusted these briefings anyways. The last 'big push' was one lowly scout. I don't think there's any need for alarm."

"You know, you're probably right."

"I usually am."

"Fair."

"You should stop answering like that to every statement I make, you know."

"Fair."

Heidemarie just smiled, shook her head, and walked into the briefing room.

**WHOOOP. New story. I've been thinking of this one for a while, and decided to actually get it to… ePaper. **

**Heidemarie is easily my favorite witch, no contest.**

**R&amp;R, Please!**


	2. Day -1, Night

"Will there be any questions?"

Heidemarie glanced around the OPS room to see if anyone had any further information to request or to offer. The other instructors, she saw, were doing the same. The operation was very straight forward in terms of strategy and execution, and not a single other officer present had any doubts about the plan. Even the mechanic instructors were confident the plan was good; the body posture of all personnel present indicated this.

"Well then, dismissed." The base command then stood, and with a nod of her head, left the room.

Heidemarie stood and turned to leave. Matthew, ever the joker in the group, was animatedly demonstrating something to another mechanic. She caught his eye and raised her eyebrows at him in response to his 'story telling'. Feeling tired, she decided to leave the OPS room and catch some early sleep in preparation for the mission the next day. She was just able to reach for the door when it opened for her. Looking around, she saw Matthew holding it open for her to leave.

"Ladies first!" It still sometimes surprised her how… chivalrous he was, mostly because the rest of the time he was the most unserious person she had met. Only when interacting with superior officers (He being only a Captain, while she was a Major), or when working with the Striker units did she see the serious, work-to-the-bone side of him. However, she noticed that with some high ranks, such as her or other mechanic instructors, did he speak and interact informally. Some thought this was disrespectful but those who knew him and worked with him before knew that he did this because, in his own words, 'When you work with someone and need the highest level of trust, you gotta be a human being'. This she understood well. She trusted him more than any other mechanic as during training for the mechanics he used her Striker to demonstrate the technical and theoretical aspects of the machinery and in the process, knew everything about her preferred set-up and kept the unit in perfect condition. Never has she worried about the unit failing her; never did he worry about it failing her either. Trust was a two-way street in war.

As the pair walked through the headquarters building Heidemarie asked the man his thoughts on the mission.

"So, do you think we'll be OK?" She looked over at him and waited.

"I don't see why you're worried. There are 5 flights, 5 instructors and an actual Strike Wing less than three clicks away."

"Well things happen, you know."

Matthew just stared. At first Heidemarie didn't understand why he was looking at her like that, and then remembered he had nearly been killed in a Neuroi attack once.

"Oh. Sorry." Heidemarie apologized faster than she ever had in her life. Matthew just kept staring at her, gradually contorting face into the most ridiculous… thing she had ever seen. Heidemarie could only laugh. He finally spoke after she had lost her control.

"Don't worry about it. Just try to relax, y'know? You'll die from worry."

"Shut it, you."

* * *

With a start Heidemarie opened her eyes. In the gloom of her bedroom she stared at the ceiling wondering why she was suddenly awake. Unable to figure out why she couldn't fall back to sleep she rolled over and looked at the clock beside her bed. _12:37, _she thought, _so much for a good night's sleep._ Deciding that perhaps some fresh air would do her some good Heidemarie got out of her bed and dressed. Glancing at the clock again, she headed out of her room to clear her mind.

She didn't have any specific path or destination in mind, but within minutes she found herself opening the door to the 333rd's hangar. Inside she could hear loud voices and the sound of tools being operated and Strikers being calibrated. She closed the door behind her and proceeded to walk to the main floor of the hangar where the wing's mechanics, led by their instructor Matthew, were preparing the unit's equipment for the upcoming sortie.

Turning the corner to the main floor Heidemarie stopped, leaned against the door frame, and watched. Besides the mechanics in training, Heidemarie also saw Matthew working on her Striker as well as offering advice and giving criticism to the trainees. The radical change in Matt was obvious when watching him in the hangar. Gone from his face was the goofy grin and mischievous look; instead his face was hardened in concentration, his eyes set on the task at hand. As well as working on the unit in front of him he was also fielding questions from his charges.

"Captain, the output on this unit is reading as unstable. Everything is configured properly, what could be causing it?"

Matt didn't even look up from his own work when he answered back "Check the OLSA bridge between the output and the SCP control arm. The instability on the magical output is usually caused by the bridge not stabilizing the magic flow to the RPM controller in the OLSA."

Heidemarie didn't understand one bit of the explanation but obviously the mechanic who posed the question did as after a few seconds of tinkering the mechanic called back to Matt "Wow. That's perfectly stabilized now."

Matt walked over to the mechanic's station and checked both the Striker and the graphing machine that it was connected to, spoke briefly to the man at the station, patted his should then returned to his work. Heidemarie decided to go over to speak to him; she found a sort of comfort in his personality when stressed and felt that a good conversation with him may calm her down.

As she approached her Striker she became aware of every mechanic in the room, except Matt, watching her. It wasn't often the mechanics see a Witch in the hanger this late into the day. Matt looked up at her and said "This is unusual, seeing you in here this late."

"Couldn't sleep" was her reply, "and decided to clear my head."

"OK then. Speaking of which, what kind of performance do you want tomorrow?" Heidemarie looked at Matt with a look of confusion, so he elaborated "I meant your Striker. Any specific set up?"

"Oh. A bit more speed, maybe? I may want to move around in reaction faster."

"Fair enough."

For the next couple of hours Heidemarie and Matthew talked about anything and everything, from their childhood to their future plans. Heidemarie learned that Matt used to be a pilot but switched to being a mechanic for the Witches because, in his words, "Seems way more fun, and who doesn't want to be surrounded by cuties?" earning him a smack from Heidemarie. She also learned that he wants to start a family in the future. When she heard this her mind, for no reason known to her, started imagining being married to the man, and immediately blushed. Matthew, ever the opportunist, saw this and started teasing the Witch about having a 'dirty mind' and 'a vivid imagination', earning him another smack. Once thing Heidemarie didn't notice, however, was the lingering gaze he gave her when she looked across the hangar to the open bay door.

The only thing that Matt had learned was that her eyesight had been damaged a young age due to her inability to control her magic, and that she too wanted to start a family. Although he wouldn't admit it, he had teased the woman in front of him because he had the same thoughts about her.

After a bit more discussion, Matthew turned to his crew and shouter over the ambient noise "OK, is everyone done?" After a chorus of affirmatives, and the silencing of the sounds of work, we called his team together. Heidemarie stepped away from the group; this wasn't her place now. He had orders to give to this team. She pretended to be interested in her Striker as he gave his final orders for the night.

"OK boys, good work. Remember, wake-up call is 0700 hours. Make sure you're fed and ready to go here at 0745. The mission starts at 0800, so we need all Witches armed and ready to go at 0800. This includes any last minute configurations. Also, make sure that you are in Combat ready state; it may sound funny but warzones don't exactly have fixed lines, and a Neuroi laser won't care if it hits behind the line. Dismissed."

As the mechanics filed out, Matt turned to Heidemarie and asked "Want me to walk you back to the barracks?" Heidemarie obliged the man, and once she was back in her room she sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her clock.

4:02

With a groan Heidemarie rolled over into her bed and closed her eyes. As she drifted to sleep, her last thought was of a blonde man and a silver haired woman standing on a balcony, overlooking the world.


End file.
